Weak
by just jay
Summary: AU. After a disturbing incident, brothers Logan and Carlos move to a small town in Minnesota, where they meet Kendall and James who give them a new outlook on life, and give them different adventures that keep them on their toes. On hiatus.
1. Prologue: The Murder

Thought: Hi, it's me. I watch a lot of E! and this came out of a different idea i had while watching one of those murder mystery shows.

* * *

><p>Logan Mitchell never really knew his father.<p>

He'd met the man a few times in his life, but he knew nothing about him. He wasn't raised by his father. He didn't know his father's middle name, birthday, or favorite color. He knew nothing about him. However, the man that helped his mother raise him, he knew a lot about. He knew his name was Roberto Maurice Garcia, that his birthday was July 15th, and that his favorite color was green. He _also_ knew that Roberto was a criminal.

He wasn't a thief, he wasn't addicted to drugs. He didn't have road rage, and he didn't drink and drive, and he didn't beat people up. He was a slayer. He found enjoyment out of murdering people.

Logan's mother, Nettie, met Rob right before Logan was born. Logan didn't have a time where Rob wasn't in his life, to him, that _was_ his father. Except, Logan wasn't a Garcia. And, despite the fact that the man left, Logan admired his father, and he was proud to be a Mitchell. Logan was happy as a kid, you know? Like, he didn't get abused regularly, he was fed and clothed and taken care of, and he even had younger siblings, Carlos, Joseph, Sophia and Isabella to grow up with him. Things were looking good.

Logan was ten, Carlos almost eight, when it happened, when Rob spilled. It was January; it was snowing on top of 3 feet of snow and Nettie stopped at the store on her way home from work for some essentials. Rob was fidgeting.

Joseph, Sophia and Isabella were much younger than Logan and Carlos, being four and two and six months. The two toddlers were on the floor playing with blocks and Isabella was crying in her basinet in the living room. Logan was sitting on the couch next to Rob, and Carlos was on the floor in front of them.

Logan couldn't help but notice the uneasiness of his step-father. The man seemed rather nervous, annoyed, frustrated and angry. "I've done it before," he said, looking at Logan. "I really have."

"Daddy," two-year-old Sophia said, "Mommy's baby grill is crying again."

"Shut the fuck up, Sophia!" the annoyed man bellowed. "I _know_!"

"But she's _hungry_," said the informative toddler.

"I _don't_ care!" He screamed.

Logan watched him warily. He was the oldest; he was supposed to make sure this all ended okay. He was nervous, though. He'd seen Rob get angry. He'd been hurt by the man before, and he'd watched the man hurt his siblings. He didn't want to see this happen anymore, but, in all actuality, what the _hell_ was he supposed to do? He was ten, and his seven year old brother was bigger than he was. Granted, he'd _just_ turned ten, and Carlos was almost eight, but still. He would never be a match for Rob in a situation where he needed to stand up for himself or his siblings.

And that night was the worst night of Logan's life.

Because Rob broke.

"I'VE DONE IT BEFORE. I DON'T NEED THIS!" He hollered and went into the kitchen. When he returned, he went over to the basinet and picked up the crying infant. Logan watched him slit his newborn sister's throat and throw her across the room, blood quickly elapsing from her small, fragile, lifeless body.

When the other children noticed what had just happened right before them, they began to cry. Carlos, crying hard, jumped up on the couch next to Logan, who was frozen solid in his spot, completely stunned and utterly shocked by what just happened, and the younger boy gripped his older brother for dear life, praying to God that he wouldn't allow their father to do this to him, too.

Logan couldn't believe this. He couldn't comprehend what was happening, and before he knew it, he was watching Rob stab Sophia; her body jolting every time the kitchen knife went into her body. Blood was everywhere; all over the basinet, the blocks, the walls, the carpet, the couch. It splattered on Logan and Carlos. Not too long after Sophia was dead, the man had successfully killed Joseph. He worked too quickly and Logan couldn't react. He didn't get his mind back before it was too late. Three out of four of his siblings were murdered in a span of about two minutes.

And Roberto Garcia had done it before.

He looked at the remaining two on the couch, and finally, the oldest brother registered. Something clicked in his mind that he was in serious danger, that Carlos was in serious danger, and that Joseph, Sophia and Isabella had just been _murdered in front of him_. He looked into the raging chocolate eyes of his dad, the man that was supposed to raise them and love them. Would he really kill them? Who was to say he wouldn't have? He'd just killed three babies, one after the other, gone, dropped like flies. Three innocent babies. Logan's siblings.

Dead.

Logan could have sworn Carlos was next, then him. The way the man looked at them…it was so sadistic, twisted and evil and full of hatred. Logan had never seen this look on anyone before in his life. He'd never seen anyone murder, and he'd never expect his dad…

The man lashed at the boys, clearly aiming for the younger, but Logan stood up and stood in front of him. He couldn't lose another sibling, he couldn't let this happen, he couldn't lose another sibling, he couldn't, he just couldn't…

Logan didn't scream when he felt the knife that killed his three siblings slide hard across the right side of his face; but he was protecting Carlos at all costs. Rob kept screaming, and Carlos was screaming, and Logan was doing all he could to prevent another death that night.

The large man had slashed his son across the face, several times on his back and arms, twice on his leg as he tried to get him while chasing him around. He beat the little boy the best of his abilities, but really, he just wanted to kill him. Logan held him off to the best of his abilities, making sure his brother got out without so much a scratch on his body. The intention had been to kill him. Him and Carlos; and then Nettie, and Rob would get away with it because he knew how. He had, after all, done it before.

Logan was bleeding severely and bruised harshly, about to be stabbed through the heart with the kitchen knife that had just been used to murder three kids, when the phone rang. Rob stopped and stared at the two boys before narrowing his eyes. "_Don't_. Move," he instructed firmly, clearly finding it very important to take this phone call. He seized what he was doing and proceeded into the kitchen before finding the phone.

Logan made sure he and Carlos were visible when Rob glanced at them from the kitchen, but the second, and no later than a second, his bloody hand grabbed his little Latino brother's hand and quickly, quietly, swiftly, ran out the front door, stepping over the dead bodies of his siblings, and closing it as quietly as possible.

For the first time in his life, Logan Mitchell hadn't listened to an adult. It was the first time he defied someone with authority, and to him, _everyone_ had authority over him. He went next door to his neighbors and they looked horror-stricken at Logan; but the boy quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, "I don't know what to do…please help me, don't…please, don't let him get up, please, please…I'm sorry, just _please_." he wasn't crying; how could he cry? Carlos certainly was, and he had to show Carlos it was okay. Even though it wasn't. Carlos had watched his brother find strength in this moment of weakness.

"What happened!" asked Olivia Auden, thirty seven, mother of one, ushering the children inside, locking the doors behind her, trying to protect them from whatever it was that had caused the bleeding and bruised and crying children. "Andy, call 9-1-1, and tell them to send an ambulance and police officers immediately!" she ordered her son.

"M-my dad," said Logan, "he just…he just…" he couldn't say it. He couldn't say what had just been done, what dirty deed had just occurred. Because he still couldn't believe it. He was numb; his emotions were numb, his entire body was numb. It's a good thing, in a way, because if he could feel anything right now, he'd _really be hurting_.

"What'd he do, Logan?" asked Mr. John Auden, a thirty eight year old businessman. "Logan…Liv, go get a white towel and try to calm Carlos down, okay?" he instructed skillfully. His wife immediately obeyed, and listened as Andy, her sixteen year old son, shouted that they were on the way.

Mr. Auden wiped the blood off of Logan and tried to stop as much bleeding as possible. The worst was on his back where five diagonal lines in a row, looking almost like the cut of a razor, except, they were large, sickening slices. They started from his right shoulder and went to the middle of his back. One on his right shoulder. Two on the back of his left leg, right on top of each other, horizontally. Three small ones on the inside of his left arm, there mistakenly while Rob was punching Logan with his free hand, looking like the letter K. Another small accidental one, slightly deeper than the K, was on his left backhand; looking like a moon crest. Then was the one on his face.

It was bleeding more intensely in the middle of his cheek than anywhere else. Mr. Auden had ordered his son to fetch more towels and to help him with Logan till the paramedics got there. The slice on the ten year old's face started towards the left of his left eye, on the zygomatic bone, through the cheek, maxillae, and stopping right before his lips.

"Are you okay?" Mr. Auden asked the small boy.

Logan nodded, but said nothing. He was losing a lot of blood, and his pale face was paler than usual. He was shocked and he was panicked. "Carlos," was all he said, and immediately the crying boy was by his side, holding him tight, and Logan holding him back just the same. "…are you okay?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "Did he hurt you?"

Logan was full of relief when Carlos shook his head. "I-I'm oh-kay."

"Logan, Carlos," Mr. Auden said seriously, "You need to tell me what happened! Did your dad do this to you?"

Both boys nodded.

"Where's your mom?"

"Store," Logan said simply, his voice dull, as if this didn't happen. As if nothing happened. As if he were numb.

"Where are the babies?"

Carlos cried harder and Logan, again, didn't allow himself to. His heart raced hard in his chest and with a small hesitation, he said, "…killed."

* * *

><p>Imagine the horror that went through Antonia Lucas when police cars, ambulances, and a crowd of people surrounded her house. In a panic, she put the car in park, leaving it on, jumping out and running up to the house. "Ma'am," said a police officer, stopping her, "you can't go in there."<p>

"That's _my house_!" she informed.

The policeman froze immediately; he didn't want to have to be the one to tell this woman that her children had been murdered. "Mrs. Lucas?" he questioned.

"Yes!" She huffed, her entire body encumbered with fear. She knew in her heart that something terrible had happened. Someone was missing; one of her children, missing…she was already crying.

"Mrs. Lucas…I'm sorry, but um…this is the scene of a horrendous, disgusting…Mrs. Lucas, approximately thirty three minutes ago, your…Roberto Garcia killed three of your children…Joseph, Sophia and Isabella…I'm just…so sorry."

Grief stricken, and sobbing, screaming on the ground, Nettie looked up at the police officer, "Where - are - Logan - and - Carlos - ?" she questioned between sobs and cries of hysteria. Ping, pang, pong, she was shot in the heart three times over, it had been ripped and torn to shreds and nothing would ever help make this feeling go away and where the _fuck_ were her sons?

"They were rushed to the hospital. I can bring you there right now," he offered.

She tried to compose herself and stand up, but it was heavy. She felt heavy because the world was on her shoulders. How could this happen to her? How could this happen to her babies? Why were her children murdered? How could she have let this happen?

She didn't know what to expect when she went to the hospital, but she knew that she had to stop crying, because she was the adult. She was a mess, the boys didn't need to see her like that, and she did her best to compose herself before entering the hospital with the police officer.

The man took charge, telling the receptionist who this woman was and where she needed to be. The nurse obliged to her duties and led the heartbroken woman to a back room where she saw Carlos sitting with a nurse, and crying.

The little Latino jumped into his mothers arms upon seeing her. Nettie scooped him up and rubbed the back of his head as he cried into her shoulder.

"Shh," she hushed her baby, "It's okay, mommy's got you, mommy's here now."

"Logie's hurt," was the response she heard in a soft, small voice. The normally energetic child had cried himself to exhaustion and feeling safe in the comforting, familiar arms of his mother made him even more drowsy.

Nettie turned to the nurse who gave a subtle nod and sighed. "Logan's in the back getting stitches; he was beaten pretty badly." The mother felt another pang in her heart. Her baby was hurting and it was because of her lack of judgment. You live with someone for ten and a half years and you think you know them. But even though he did it before, Nettie had no idea that Roberto Garcia was a cold blooded killer.

The nurse told them that Logan's doctor would come in and bring them to Logan when they were ready; she told them where they could find her if they needed anything, anything at all, and she bid her sympathy before leaving.

Nettie rocked her baby back and forth, telling him it was okay; telling _herself _it was okay. She didn't know how it would be okay, but she had Carlos, and she'd have Logan soon. The boys that would never leave her or hurt her.

When the doctor came and introduced himself, his heart ached because he never wanted to feel what this woman must have been feeling; nor did he want to tell her the news of her son. "Logan suffered multiple knife wounds, several slices along his back required stitches; his shoulder, legs, and …face. He has sixty seven stitches, four large bruises and several small cuts. He lost a lot of blood so we started him on a transfusion; he's got an IV line. He'll have scars for the rest of his life…"

Nettie tried her hardest to fight back tears and it was honestly the hardest thing she ever had to do. She put Carlos down and took his hand, keeping him as close as possible as they silently followed the doctor to Logan's room.

Logan was okay; he wasn't hurting because the doctor had given him stuff to make him numb again; after being separated from Carlos the small pale boy had panicked and the doctor immediately calmed him down.

Nettie didn't leave her son's sides for at least forty eight hours. She was obsessed with seeing them. She, of course, had a lot to be dealing with. The police wanted information, but she wanted them to leave her boys alone. She didn't want them to be any more involved than what they were, anymore hurt than what they were, and she definitely didn't want them to have to relive that fucking day.

She requested to see Rob. She was disgusted by him; the very thought of him made her sick to her stomach, yet, this had to be done. She stared at him on the other side of the phone booths. "You're going to go down anyway," she said to him, "You killed three of your kids; don't put these boys through anything else. Admit what you've done so your sons don't have to be involved."

So, Roberto Garcia admitted to what he did. He admitted what he'd done; and that's when he admitted to eight other unsolved murdered and how he did them. He kept a still face as he did it, and he expected to be put to death. The death penalty in New York is not allowed, as of 2007. Robert Garcia was to sit alone in a jail cell and rot till he died. If, at any given time, the warden of the jail thought necessary, the murderer would be transported to a different state confinement, a state which allowed the penalty of death, and he would be electrocuted till death.

Until then, he was rotting in jail.

And to get away from it all, Nettie moved to Minnesota where she grew up, where her mom was. But the pain of what happened never left any of them. And every night in the dreams of the two young boys, it was hard to erase the images of their father murdering their siblings. How would they possibly get through something like this?

* * *

><p>Note: yeah. so. whatcha think? yay, nay? i just want a story where Carlos and Logan are brothers. yeah. so thanks for reading(:<p> 


	2. Kendall and James

Thought: Not all chapters will be like this one. I had them wait a little while before going to school, because I didn't want Logan to meet Kendall and James when his battle wounds were fresh.

* * *

><p>Kendall Knight wiped his wet booger on his sister's arm; the girl didn't notice this action. This wouldn't be the first time her older brother thought it was funny to wipe his snots on her. She was very occupied with her DS, lost in a world that wasn't reality.<p>

And Kendall wished he could find a way to lose himself the way she could. He envied her for being able to not care about the rest of the world. But Kendall wasn't like that. He was constantly worried about everyone, including his sister, his parents, his best friends and even strangers. He liked to volunteer and help others out, he liked to lead and take action and charge. He liked to have order and he liked to be in control because, he felt, if things went the way he wanted them to, all would be smooth.

He'd only had a few rough patches in his young life; his father being in the war, his grandfather dying, his best friend James's parents nasty divorce and helping him get through that. Kendall liked to create problems to solve, but a lot of the times, trouble just found him. He was naturally mischievous and back-talking, hitting, pulling pranks and trouble was just second nature to him.

He was in trouble often but he always found a way out of it. He always found a way to lead others out of trouble, and danger, even if it was him who caused it to begin with. He was protective; his dad was rarely home, being so involved with the war, and Kendall definitely took the role of being the man in the house seriously. It was one of the only things he took seriously.

His life wasn't confusing, and it wasn't hard to comprehend. He lived it, so he understood it best. He understood James's life, and his mother's, his sister's, and many, many other people that he had met over the years. He just got it. He knew their agenda, their story, what happened in their lives that made them who they are. In a small town in Minnesota, everybody knows everybody, and nobody new ever comes and nobody ever leaves.

Anthony Lucas had been friends with his Grandfather once upon a time, before the latter passed. He'd met Mr. Lucas and his wife, Nicola, maybe two or three times. He knew that the couple had two kids, Antonia and Nicholas, who were _clearly_ named after their parents. Nicholas had one child, but that was okay, because with five kids, Antonia had enough children for both of them.

Kendall had never met Antonia, the one they called Nettie. He'd met Nick more than he'd met Anthony and Nicola; Nick was friends with his own father and they'd both been in the army together till Nick was killed the previous year, leaving his wife and then 2 year old daughter. Nettie, he knew, lived in New York with her boyfriend and kids, happily living in a big city.

Kendall remembered his mother telling him that there was a rumor that Nettie was coming back to Minnesota. Of Kendall's knowledge, she'd been the first to leave. He had no idea why anyone would want to come back, unless it was just to visit. Getting out was the _best_ thing someone could do because it was so Goddamned boring in Minnesota and New York seemed so exciting.

"Why's she coming back?" Kendall had asked.

"It's just a rumor, sweets," she responded. "Nettie is very happy in New York. There was a severe murder scene a few weeks ago; an unnamed man killed three infants, then confessed to committing eight other murders."

Then, there was one day where he saw a new face; a face that was familiar, but it was new. He'd never seen her before, but he knew instantly by looking at the woman it was, without a doubt, the remaining child of Mr. and Mrs. Lucas. It was Nettie. He didn't see any children, however, and that made him slightly suspicious. A woman with five children rarely got out of the house by herself. Especially when three of them were supposedly babies.

But the thing about Nettie was that Kendall couldn't read her. He couldn't understand her feelings, but he knew that there was no way this woman was happy. When he got home that night, he asked his mother, "Mom, remember that Nettie you were telling me about? How old are her kids?"

Mrs. Knight scanned her brain trying to remember, "I know she just had a baby over the summer. The oldest is your age, I believe, or right around your age. We were pregnant at the same time when she left."

Logically, Kendall asked, "So, if she moved here, I'd meet her kids?"

"You'd probably meet the oldest in school, yes," she informed.

However, Kendall didn't have any new students in his class. Nor in his school. In fact, he hadn't even seen the supposed Nettie again, so he immediately assumed that the woman he saw was not Antonia Lucas, but instead just a traveler in a gas station, passing by getting to somewhere big.

The days flew by quickly.

Kendall had completely forgotten about the woman he saw; he lost her face. He hadn't seen or heard from any of the Lucas's, and his mom only vaguely mentioned them in phone conversations. James knew as much as Kendall did when it came to the Lucas family; they were one confusing bunch, and Kendall _hated_ being confused. He hated not knowing, even if it wasn't his business. Kendall had a tendency to make other peoples business _his_ business.

On the first day of sixth grade, something new happened. Or, rather, _someone_ new. Kendall had never seen him before; the boy was new. He was _quite_ small and Kendall had thought he was in the wrong class for a moment. He looked like he belonged in _fourth_ grade, not sixth.

Kendall wanted to approach him, he wanted to say something to him, ask him who he is, where he came from, what his actual age was, you know, the normal questions a curious eleven year old might inquire. However, he couldn't just walk up to him. For the first time in his life, Kendall Knight was intimidated by another human being. He felt guilty about it, of course, being nervous around somebody because of their physical appearance.

Kendall wasn't afraid of anyone, and he wasn't about to let that start happening. But something in his head told him to leave the scarred boy alone; that it was a story he didn't need to be apart of, that he'd end up in more trouble than he'd ever been in. Kendall's heart, however, said something different. It almost ached for him, as if it _needed _to know all about him, and all about that large scar on his face.

Kendall looked at James, who clearly knew what his friend was thinking. "You wondering about that scar?" James asked Kendall.

Kendall nodded. "Aren't you?"

James said, "Yeah, but it's not like you can just walk up to someone and ask how they got a scar."

"Why not?"

James pondered this, _why not_? Kendall had a point, in James's eyes.

Eleven-year-old Logan Mitchell sat quietly in his seat at his new school. After being home-schooled with Carlos for a year, it was nice to have a real classroom back underneath his fingertips. He could almost smell the scent of knowledge, and it ate at him. He was so eager to learn and be apart of a class again. But he couldn't help but notice everyone staring.

And he knew exactly what they were staring at.

He hated it; he hated the fact that people always saw it. He hated that it was always there, a constant reminder of that day, a constant reminder of what happened, a constant reminder of Roberto Garcia, and that evil look in his eye he gave Logan just before he left to answer the phone.

The two most curious people were obviously trying hard to not be so obvious. Logan found it rather humorous, actually. They peeked over their shoulders at him, made small comments concerning approaching him, and Logan was, without a doubt, the subject of their discussion.

They did this for a week, just watched him. All the students did; he was an outcast. He had a deformity. He wasn't normal, he was weird. He'd heard it all, and he'd heard it before. He hadn't been under a rock or anything, but still, it hurt. He couldn't help but feel jealous when Carlos had immediately fit into his class, becoming the class clown, getting all laughs and making tons of friends. Logan went home with a shiner on his eye the first day, and for the rest of that week, he tried his hardest to keep quiet and stay hidden. Making friends was his last priority. He just wanted to stay safe and avoid bullies.

But, Logan was just stuck, listening to all these people talk about them, watching them watch him. Especially these two boys that were in half of his classes. They constantly kept their eye on him, talking, and saying things, discussing him, as if trying to find something to do about him. They were troublemakers, bullies, and Logan was their perfect target. He hated being targeted, and ever since that punch on his first day, he was even more panicked by the thought of other people than before.

He watched them carefully, skillfully being unnoticed. His heart pounded hard in his chest as the two tall, pretty muscular (for eleven, anyway), boys hesitantly and slowly, and obviously nervously made their way over to him. He was trying not to panic.

Logan was easily intimidated by other people. They made him nervous because you can never fully _understand_ a person. He learned that a long time ago. Logan, along with his brother, had spent the past few months in intensive therapy sessions trying their best to move on from what happened. They had, thus far, been successful.

"Hi," said the tall blonde boy, "I'm Kendall, and that's, uh, James."

The tan boy, James, seemed awkward. "…I'm James," he repeated.

Logan pressed his lips together tightly and subtly nodded quickly. "…okay," he said, and he'd planned on only saying that, but by looking at the faces of these two, the way they looked at him, he gave in. "I'm Logan."

"Are you new?" asked Kendall.

"Uh, yeah. Unless you count the week that I've been here." To say the least, Logan felt weird. He knew the other kids had been talking about him, but none of them had had the balls to approach him. He didn't want to be sarcastic; he was afraid that Kendall and James would knock him out.

"Where'd you come from?" asked James.

Logan didn't like being asked questions. He didn't like people knowing things about him. Because of the fact that the two boys were intensely intimidating to Logan, he answered their questions immediately, trying his best to be himself yet give them what they want to hear so they won't beat him up. "New York."

"What part of New York?" Kendall questioned.

"Manhattan. A few blocks from Central Park."

"How old are you?" James questioned.

"…I'll be eleven in December."

"Got any siblings?" Kendall asked.

"…Yeah."

"Oh yeah?"

"…yeah."

"How many?" Kendall pressed.

Logan hadn't known how to answer this question anymore. "…my brother, Carlos," was his response.

"Your brother Carlos?" Kendall had a tendency to repeat everything Logan said with questions.

Logan's eyes shifted as he nodded. He bit his lip and closed his eyes before opening them, staring at Kendall and saying, "If you're gonna beat me up, can you just get it over with?"

Kendall's bushy brows smushed together in pure confusion. "Beat you up? Why would we beat you up?"

Logan took a deep breath. "People just…do…it's _because_ _of_ _this_, I know_._"

Kendall should his head. "We're not like those people. We don't just beat people for no reason."

"Trust me, they have their reasons," he said, his voice low.

"So…you really got that black eye from Jason?" Kendall asked.

Logan shrugged. "I don't know his name."

"About yay tall, blondish, pig nose?"

"I guess. Look, what do you want?"

"What makes you think we want something?" Kendall questioned.

"Why are you talking to me, then?"

"Is anybody else talking to you? No, so shut up if you want friends."

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but instead, just closed it. He'd rather be friends with Kendall and James than be enemies with them. "So, it's Friday," said Kendall, "and James and I have a sleep over at my house every Friday night, mostly because James's mom says his dad's a drunk man-whore, whatever that is, and mom says his mom doesn't even know how use the microwave let alone take care of James right, so he spends a lot of time at my house. Anyway, do you want to sleep over with us?"

Logan's eyes shifted as Kendall basically just spilled James's biggest family problems and James didn't even seem to mind. What Logan got out of that was that his father was a cheating alcoholic, and his mother was a dumb, hot mess who couldn't take care of her kid. "Man-whore?" he questioned.

"Yeah. That's what my mom said. I really don't know what a man whore is."

"Well, uh, technically, the word whore is a swear. It's an offensive term to describe…well, to describe prostitutes, basically," the genius informed his innocent friends.

"A prostitute? Like, Jack The Ripper?"

"Well, Jack The Ripper _killed_ prostitutes after he had sex with them. Prostitutes get paid to have sex with guys who are desperate."

"Wait," James said, having it click in his head. "You saying my dad gets paid to have sex with guys?"

"No, no, no," Logan said, not trying to lose his new friends already. He hadn't even agreed to the sleep over yet. "I'm saying, Kendall's mom thinks your dad is cheating on your mom."

James nodded. "Oh. Yeah, _my_ mom thinks that, too. He's never really around, and she's always crying. But, uh, yeah, let's not talk about that. Are ya sleeping over with us?"

Logan _wanted _to sleep over with them; he thought it'd be fun. It'd been a long time since he had friends besides Carlos, and Kendall and James seemed to like him well enough to invite him to a sleep over. "Well, it's just that I usually spend Friday nights with Carlos." Actually, Logan usually spent _every_ night with Carlos. Their mother worked the late shift, so Logan took care of Carlos. It was the least he could do, he thought. Besides, he couldn't imagine leaving Carlos home alone.

"Well, he can come too," said Kendall. "I mean, if you want."

Logan shrugged a shoulder. "Well, I'll ask him."

"Okay, well, call me and tell me what he says. Let me write it down so you'll-"

"You don't have to, I can memorize it."

"…536-3255," Kendall said quickly, testing Logan.

Logan knew it immediately, of course. He was really good with numbers and dates; his brain had a large capacity for knowledge and his ambition had a hunger for it.

Well the bell rang for homeroom to be over, Logan stood up, and he was noticeably shorter and smaller than the two and he couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by it. They went about their day, but this time, Logan didn't eat lunch alone. And, he had last period with James and Kendall, so he didn't walk out of the school alone, either. He even stayed a few extra minutes to talk with them before they got into Kendall's mom's car, and he headed towards the elementary school. Of course, he recited Kendall's number to him before leaving, and Kendall was indeed surprised that the small pale boy remembered it.

Logan walked five blocks to Carlos's school and waited an hour for him to get out; since it was Friday, he didn't have any homework to do, so, instead, he took out his dictionary and learned random words. It wasn't something he did often, but when he had literally nothing else to do, he enjoyed doing that. He couldn't just do _nothing_. He had to do something to occupy himself.

The elementary schools dismissed the kids by grade; kindergarteners first and fourth graders last. Since Carlos was in fourth grade, and since it took him a while to settle down and gather his things, he was usually one of the last ones out. Logan put away his dictionary when he saw the third graders, and he stood up, put his backpack on, and advanced towards the crowd of cars and mothers and fathers waiting for their children. He stood next to the tall, blond mother that he had stood next to the other four days he did this.

Carlos bounced out and happily requested, "Logan, guess what I did today?"

"What'd you do today, Carlos?"

"My whole class started this new project and we have to make posters of the states! Since there's 25 of us, we each do two posters, one this week and one next week and guess what state I have this week! Just GUESS!"

"…Wisconsin?"

Carlos's smile faltered. "How'd you know?"

Logan chuckled. "You love cheese."

Carlos nodded ferociously. "I do! I _do_ love cheese! Will you help me with the project, Logan? Will you?"

Logan smiled, "Of course I will. Come on, let's go home. We have stuff to discuss."

The blond mother couldn't help but smile at the two boys.

Logan walked beside Carlos, and to a stranger, you would never guess that Logan was older. Carlos was taller, but not by much and he was what one would describe as beefier than his older brother. Logan was used to the fact that Carlos was bigger; most people were. He was sometimes insecure about it; Logan felt like he didn't fit in anywhere. He was the size of fourth graders, yet he was in sixth grade, but he had the mind of someone in ninth grade. He didn't belong anywhere, he didn't fit in anywhere.

"So, I met these kids today," Logan said, leading Carlos home. "And they wanted me to sleep over. So I -"

"AWWH!" said Carlos, "you're gonna leave me home alone?"

"No, just listen," said Logan patiently. "I said that I usually spend nights with you. So they said you could come, too. I really want to go, but if you don't, then I can't, because I _can't_ leave you home alone. The only thing is, they're cool, so you have to be cool."

"Me? I'm cool as ice! Of course I'll go, especially if you really wanna. You always do stuffs for me, so I can sleep over with you."

Logan smiled at his little brother, and the first thing he did when he got home was call that number, immediately noticing that it, coincidentally spelled out Kendall's name on the phone's keypad.

"Yo," answered the other person on the line.

"Uh…is Kendall home?"

"Logan?"

"…yeah?"

"This _is_ Kendall! So, you're coming!" He screamed.

Logan smiled, but he couldn't laugh at him, yet, anyway. "Yeah, we're coming. Just tell us where to go."

"Want my mom to come get you? What if you get lost?"

"No, that's fine. I'll be okay."

"Well, where do you live, so I know where to start you off?"

"I live on Thirteenth Avenue," I said.

"Oh!" Kendall said immediately. "I live on First, so you're not that far. Well, you're far if you go the long way, do you know the short cut?"

"Um, no. I only know going to the left, and walking the blocks."

"Well, okay, there's a trail through the woods to the right of the ends of blocks. You know the foresty type? Well, it just connects all the blocks. The teenagers made it _years_ ago. James and I go down it all the time! So, you just find the path, which is real clear, then you take the _right_ and First Avenue is right on the end, it's the last one. I live at 28."

"Okay, well, we'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay, see you soon!"

And so, Logan and Carlos packed their bags and headed for Kendall's house, not knowing what Kendall and James were up to.

* * *

><p>Note: So, sorry if that was long and boring and bad haha. I don't know if I want to jump ahead, or if I want to show you guys how the story unfolds first before we get to the major stuff. I don't know, what do you think? thanks for reading(:<p> 


	3. Hockey

Thought: I told Cheeky that I would try my hardest to update tonight, and I got out of work an hour and a half late to find out that my cousin was in a car accident. I'm up, thinking about cheeky. Can't help it, she's so sweet. Anyway, sorry if this chapter seems short and big time rushed.

* * *

><p>Logan easily found his way to Kendall's house; the tall boy had been right, 28 First Avenue was easy to find from 13 Thirteenth Avenue, using that path. It also saved the short boys about thirty minutes of walking time.<p>

Kendall and James were outside when Carlos and Logan got there. James was standing in a goal post set up in the driveway, and Kendall was, in his skater shoes, shooting a round, rubber, orange ball at him with a hockey stick. James was doing his best to block it, and he had done a fairly good job. Both boys did.

"Hey, Logan!" Kendall hollered when he saw his new friend. He and James stopped what they were doing and advanced towards them, dropping their sticks with loud clunks on the asphalted driveway. Kendall and James towered over Carlos and Logan, and Logan seemed to be the only one that noticed. "Logan's brother," Kendall greeted with a nod, "Carlos, right?"

"Yup," said Carlos with a grin.

"I'm Kendall, that's James."

"Your mom knows we're here, right?" Logan asked, slightly worried.

Kendall shrugged. "I told her. She's making sandwiches."

"I _love_ sandwiches!" Carlos commented.

James smiled at the newly turned nine year old. "I love sandwiches, too!"

Kendall didn't look amused by this conversation in the slightest. "Well, let's put your stuff inside and we can play hockey. Logan, you can be on my team. James, you can have Carlos and your team name can be the Sandwich Lovers, since you two love sandwiches so much."

Kendall took both boys' bags and led the way into the house; a big, white house with really green grass, a porch, and burgundy colored shutters. The inside was just as nice; the living room was very homey and comfortable looking, and a small girl sat quietly on the couch, her legs barely reaching the edge of the couch, engulfed in a video game.

"That's Katie," Kendall explained. "She's my sister, she's three. She likes video games a lot. Don't you, Katie?"

The toddler nodded, but didn't look up from the screen. She was _very_ into the video game. Logan couldn't help but think of Sophia upon seeing Katie, and he looked at Carlos, hoping he wasn't thinking of the same thing.

"Katie!" Kendall shouted her name, "Pause the game and meet my peoples."

Katie growled, pausing the game, climbing off the couch and going over to the boys. She made it up to Logan and Carlos's stomachs; she looked up at them with big, chocolate eyes and a bubbly smile. "Hi."

"That's Logan," said Kendall, pointing to the pale boy, "and that's Carlos," he pointed to the tan Latino.

"What'd you get booboos?" the toddler curiously asked Logan.

Logan sighed and knelt down to her level. "You gotta be careful, Katie. Not everyone in the world is nice."

Carlos looked down at his feet, ashamed. He wasn't ashamed of Logan, he wasn't ashamed of his father. He was ashamed of himself, because he was glad it wasn't him that had to go through what Logan did. He was glad he didn't have the scars, and he was glad that he didn't get asked questions about what happened. He never would because his scars weren't physical; people didn't know about his past. But with Logan, they knew that _something _had happened. And it wasn't exactly hard for people to figure out that they were knife wounds.

James noticed how Carlos tensed up, but he also noticed how Logan softened. Whatever had happened, he knew it made both of them uncomfortable. He knew it made Carlos nervous, and antsy, but it made Logan more mellow, and less worried that someone was going to get him. He seemed to have accepted whatever it was that happened.

Kendall, too, noticed the difference in Logan. Earlier that day, when he introduced himself, the pale boy was _clearly_ afraid of Kendall; he thought Kendall was going to beat him up for crying out loud. But now, looking at Logan, who was down on Katie's level, he seemed fearless. Like, there was that one thing that got him out of being scared of everyone, because nothing could scare him more than what he already went through.

"Who gave you those booboos?" Katie asked.

"Katie," Kendall said firmly, "Go play your game."

"But-"

"_It's not your business_!"

Katie looked like she was going to cry, but instead, she stuck her tongue out at her brother and turned, going back to the couch, climbing the mountain that it was to her, and continued her game.

"Sorry," Kendall quickly apologized, even though he had been more curious than Katie. But he felt like he already put Logan in an awkward situation. He figured Logan would tell him one day, and on his terms. That was the day he was waiting for. The day Logan trusted him enough.

Mrs. Knight came from around the corner. "What's going on in here?" she questioned. She was a tall, skinny, brunette woman. Katie was definitely a spitting image of her, and Kendall barely looked like her at all. Kendall had blond hair and green eyes; Mrs. Knight was brown haired and brown eyed. In the same sense, Logan and Carlos were brothers, and they didn't look _too_ much alike.

"Nothing," said Kendall casually, this clearly having been a question Mrs. Knight asked frequently, and an answer Kendall usually used.

Mrs. Knight looked at James, who blinked and said, "Katie was being nosy," he informed, glancing at Logan, hoping Mama K got the hint.

Mrs. Knight noticed Logan's scar once James nodded towards him. It bulged out of half of the right side of his face; but the one thing that stood out in her mind was that neither of the boys had mentioned it. Neither of them had said, "this new boy at our school has scars all over his face." It was then she became fully aware of how nonjudgmental the two eleven year olds were. It made her want to hug them till she squeezed them to death.

"Everything's okay," Logan said, feeling uncomfortable in the silence. "Really, I'm use to it. She was just…wondering, you know. A lot of people wonder."

Kendall, for instance, wondered. Mrs. Knight was wondering, too, but she didn't ask, either. She was the one, after all, who raised Kendall. She smiled at the little boy and said, "So, um…are you hungry?"

"I _want_ a sandwich!" Carlos piped, remembering that Kendall said she was making them.

Logan shot a glare at Carlos, and Carlos responded by looking at Mrs. Knight and saying, "_please_, I mean."

Kendall brought their bags upstairs to his room and met them in kitchen; his three friends at the table munching from a plate of sandwiches his mother prepared. Logan was saying, "Thanks for letting us come to sleep over."

Mrs. Knight was grinning, "Oh, it's no problem. I think you might be good for Kendall. He's not exactly _behaved_."

"I am, too," Kendall defended, sitting next to James, sloppily grabbing a sandwich and shoving half into his mouth. "I'm so behaved."

"Behaved children don't talk with their mouths full."

"Yes they do. Polite children don't. I said I was behaved, not polite."

Logan couldn't help but feel shocked; Kendall was, to say the least, a friggin smartass. If he spoke to his mother like that, he'd get backhanded for being disrespectful. You just, respect your elders, it was natural to him. He hoped Mrs. Knight wouldn't backhand Kendall, but she didn't seem to mind that he was talking to her like that.

She was actually smirking. "Okay, wise guy," she said, still smiling, "now _you_ can clean up the table."

Kendall rolled his eyes, but when they were done eating the sandwiches, the blond cleared and wiped down the table without asking questions. Then, he led the boys outside; "Ever played hockey?"

"Just floor hockey in elementary school," Logan replied.

"Me and James play on a team on ice," Kendall explained, "we practice sometimes on the ground. You wanna play?"

Logan shrugged. "I suppose."

"You suppose?"

Logan nodded.

Carlos already had picked up a hockey stick and was shooting the orange rubber ball into the empty net; Kendall went into the open garage and pulled out more sticks, and handed one to Logan. James picked up his and took the spot in the goal.

"James isn't the goalie on our team," Kendall said to Logan. "He's really on defense. That's his best spot. I'm more offense, shooting the puck kind of guy. I like to score a lot of points, a lot. I like to do it a lot. I try to, anyway. Just, try to shoot the ball past James."

Logan stood in front of the goal, and slowly hit the ball, James, clearly, blocked it with ease.

Kendall tried not to laugh, but he couldn't help it. "_What_ was _that_!" He questioned.

Logan shrugged. "I just…hit it."

"You hit it? No, you tapped it! Here, I'll show you," and Kendall stood where Logan just was, and _pelted_ that ball right at the net; it zoomed past James and, if it had been physically possible, Logan was sure that ball would have blown a hole right through the net if it could.

James pushed the ball back out and Kendall ordered Logan to try again. Carlos watched carefully as his older brother repeated Kendall's step; he hit the ball with all his might straight at the net. James had to drop down to avoid being hit, and the ball slammed hard against the back of the net.

Kendall grinned. "That was beautiful," he said. "Carlitos!" he called the youngest. "Your turn, bud."

Carlos eagerly took the place and shot the ball at James; James was able to block it, but the Latino fiercely tried and tried again till he was successful with getting it past the tall, tan, handsome boy.

Carlos and Logan were having such a good time, that they were glad it was a sleep over; they didn't want to go home. Mrs. Knight let them stay up as late as they wanted (which, in all actuality wasn't _that_ late at all), and watch movies while eating snacks in Kendall's room.

Logan didn't think he'd ever have to tell Kendall and James what had happened; till Carlos woke up in the middle of the night, crying from a nightmare. James and Kendall woke up _just_ after Logan.

* * *

><p>Note: again, sorry for the lack of you know, entertainment. I promise it'll get better, and I always keep my promises. the next chapter will probably be up tomorrow. you may not know, but I'm rather excited for this story, and I'm taking it very slowly. the kogan, jarlos will come soon, okay? trust me, stick with me. pray for my cousin. hell, pray for my grandpa while you're at it, he's not doing so well either. pray for me, cas i suck at writing, i'm tired, i have to be up in four hours for my ten hour school day. yeah. so, endrant. thank you for reading.(:<p> 


	4. The First Night

Thought: Yeah, so, I'm cruising right along. thanks for the wishes about my family! my cousin is okay; he was sent home from the hospital this morning, just a few minor injuries. yay. Grandpa's surgery is next week, i think.

* * *

><p>"<em>What<em>'s going on?" James asked in a whisper.

Logan had spent the entire day with James and Kendall; that's it, just a day. But he already knew so much about the both of them, for example, Kendall's father was in Iraq, being a Sergeant Major and leading his team all around the country. His mother was a stay at home mom; she was loving, caring, compassionate, always home and did everything Kendall and Katie needed her to. His sister was just a three year old toddler who could probably kick all of their asses in video games.

James's father wasn't around either, but not because he was _always_ working. He worked often, yes, but when he wasn't working, he wasn't home. He was out getting drunk somewhere and hooking up with young women. James's mother was _very_ into her business, Brooke Diamond Cosmetics. She was going through depression since her husband was a cheater, and she dove herself more into the business, and farther away from Mr. Diamond and James. James had no siblings.

What Kendall and James knew about Logan was that he had a younger brother named Carlos who was hyper and energetic and had nightmares. What they knew about Logan was that he was a friggin genius and he had scars. There wasn't really much more that they knew. In the same sense, Logan and Carlos were not very complicated people. Once their secrets came out, their entire story was easy to unfold. Kendall and James weren't dumb kids, and once they heard _some_ of the gruesome story, they'd be sure to get the rest.

But Logan didn't want to tell them that their dad was a murderer.

He'd much rather have a dad like Kendall's, or even James's. He envied James's cheating, loser father, and he envied Kendall's far away, brave father. He'd only met his _real_ father a few times; the man really wanted nothing to do with him, and the man that had let Logan call him 'Daddy' was rotting in jail for the rest of his life because he killed people for fun.

Because he killed his siblings.

Because he tried to kill Logan and Carlos.

Logan bit his lip hard and told Carlos to calm down. "It's just a nightmare, Carlos, you know that. It's not real."

"It _always _seems real!" he panicked.

_Because it once _was_ real_ Logan thought.

"I know, but you can't…you can't just cry about it, okay? You need to be brave."

"Can one of you tell us what's-"

Kendall cut James off by saying, "James, be _patient_."

Logan was thankful for Kendall; he at least wanted to calm down his baby brother; the only baby sibling he'd ever have again. His mother was forever traumatized by the events and he knew that he would never have another sibling. Carlos was it. So, he had to protect Carlos at all costs, even if he was too small to do that sometimes. Even if he didn't know _how_ to do that sometimes. _He_ _had to_.

"Are you okay, Carlos?" Kendall asked the crying nine year old. "Should I get my mom?"

"I'm okay," Carlos sniffled, "don't wake up your mom, I'll be okay. I'll be brave."

Kendall looked at Logan and waited for an explanation. The pale boy simply said, "Wait up."

Kendall wasn't a genius, but he knew that he was getting the story out of Logan once Carlos fell back asleep. It was evident that Logan didn't want to say it in front of his brother; especially since the poor kid was shaking and crying from the fear of the heavy nightmare. Kendall knew Logan didn't want him to have to relive it again.

Kendall knew Logan didn't want to relive it again.

But the nightmare had _peaked_ his curiosity, and he _had_ to know. What secret was his new friend hiding?

James and Kendall decided to help Logan calm Carlos down by telling funny stories. They told him about the time the two of them were swinging on a laundry basket and knocked out one of James's front teeth; the left one was actually a fake tooth. They told him about the time they chased Mrs. Majicowski's cat up into the tree, and they had to get her down, but, they ended up falling out of the tree instead of getting the damn cat, and that was how Kendall broke his arm the first time.

An hour or so had passed and Carlos's eyes were drooping. He'd long since stopped crying; he still trembled with the shakes every so often, and Kendall sensed that he'd be falling asleep soon. Still, he was growing impatient, and he didn't know how much longer he could take his own advice before giving up and demanding to know.

It was unlike Kendall to _demand_ to know something about someone _else's_ life; but he really, _really_ liked Logan and he just wanted to know everything about the kid's past that made him the person he was today. He was just curious. It wasn't unlike Kendall to wonder and be curious and to ask questions. He didn't like school, he didn't really appreciate knowledge, but people were his specialty. He honestly believed he'd be able to help stop Carlos's nightmares and get to the bottom of the situation.

So, Kendall did what he would do if this were Katie.

He started to sing softly, and James joined. Carlos eyed his brother, and eventually, he started softly singing, too, and eventually, the little Latino dozed off. Logan had been surprised that Carlos didn't start singing, too, but he imagined how tired his brother was. Carlos liked to sleep a lot at night so he was energized and rip, roaring to go in the morning, ready to take on the day.

Once he was snoozing peacefully, Kendall and James sat cross-legged across from Logan, waiting for him to start talking. Kendall stared at the scar, not being able to help himself. It was so noticeable, even in the day, and after a week of seeing it, he couldn't believe he was about to hear how he got it.

Logan's voice was always quiet; that's just how his tone was. When he spoke, his voice was still low, but it was dominant, and steady, respectable and worth listening to. Logan was a little guy, yeah, but he could get the attention of the biggest man on earth when he told this story. He'd only said it a few times, to counselors, therapists and cops, and he never showed any fear upon telling it. It was, after all, _his_ story to tell.

Never had he ever spilled this to friends.

Truthfully, he didn't _have_ any friends since the incident to tell.

Now that he did, he didn't show them that it still scared him. He didn't show them that he was scarred on the inside, too. He seemed almost heartless as he spoke. "This time last year, I had _four_ siblings. Now I just have Carlos."

Kendall's stomach twisted in his stomach; as aforementioned, Kendall wasn't the kind of kid who couldn't piece two and two together. He knew instantly; someone had killed the three missing siblings. The same someone that gave Logan that scar.

James was a little more oblivious; he didn't really understand what Logan was getting at. He couldn't help but think that the three siblings lived with a different parent, or that they were in a car accident or something. Anything that wasn't what really happened.

"It was January. My mom was out, shopping," Logan decided immediately that he was going to be _blunt_. He always did right before he said it. He blocked everyone out because if they'd showed him weakness, he was afraid he'd show it back. He couldn't be weak. He wouldn't allow himself to be weak anymore.

"My dad said some crazy things about having done it before. Isabella was a brand new baby. Sophia was three, and Joey was four and Carlos was eight. The baby was crying, and he got this crazy look in his eye and ranted, rumbling on about how he'd done it before, it wasn't any different, yadda, yadda, yadda.

"He picked up the baby by her neck and killed her. The others started crying, and he killed them, too. Carlos was going to be next, but, by then, I'd snapped to reality. I held him off the best I could…Carlos is still alive, so, I must have done _something_ right."

Kendall and James were literally stunned. They weren't crying, utter shock is what it was. They tried to process it, but they couldn't handle it. "…your dad?" was the response, but Logan wasn't sure who said it.

Logan said, "Yep. You know, there's a difference between a dad and a father, right? You don't like…hate me, now, do you?"

Kendall choked on air, "Don't for a second…" he couldn't begin to fathom the question that was just asked after hearing that story. He couldn't imagine being ten years old, watching your dad kill your siblings, living to tell the tale, and telling it without so much as choking up on your words. He didn't think he could _ever_ be that brave. He didn't think even his _father_ could be that brave. "We don't hate you…we don't….I'm just…I wasn't…your dad?"

Logan couldn't help but give a soft chuckle. "Yeah. Carlos, Joey, Sophie and Isabella's father. Our _dad_. I don't even really know my father."

"You mean Tom Mitchell?" James questioned, his voice low and quiet, something that was rare for him.

Logan nodded. "That's the guy."

"He's around," was all James could muster up. He didn't want to lay down the truth. It wasn't his business; he didn't want to poke around with it. Despite the fact that that was entirely hypocritical because had he not just been poking around in the pale boy's business moments ago, while desperately trying to figure out what caused Carlos to cry and what gave him the scar?

"…do you have any other scars?"

Logan nodded. "Thirteen all together. From _that_ night, I mean."

"Weren't you scared?"

"Petrified," Logan admitted, "but I wasn't about to let him kill Carlos. I'd already let him kill the others."

"You can't think that it was your fault!" Kendall said, arms flailing. When Carlos shifted in his sleep, the blonde felt guilty and put his arms quickly to his side, silencing himself.

"…if I didn't just _sit _there…I stopped him from killing Carlos, didn't I? I could've stopped him from-"

Kendall shook his head and James watched this conversation unfold, not knowing what to say to be apart of this. Kendall was good at talking, and James was good at letting him.

"Even if you _could_," Kendall said solemnly, "you didn't. and you can't change the past; it is what it is."

Logan knew this. His entire life was based on rationality and logic; he knew he couldn't change the past. He knew he couldn't call a redo and save the day. He couldn't be the hero; he _wasn't_ a hero. He was _just_ _Logan. _

Logan wasn't a hero.

If anything, he was weak.

* * *

><p>Note: I think this is my favorite chapter so far. so, miss Cheeky. Deal's a deal. thanks for reading, guys (:<p> 


	5. Things Learned

Thought: It's me with an update. Oh, and a warning because I've started writing something else. Keep your eyes open. (;

* * *

><p>If Logan was weak, then Carlos was the epitome of pathetic. And because Logan was weak, it made Carlos pathetic.<p>

Logan was just weak because he thought of himself as weak. He was too young to realize that you pick your own choices in life; he didn't know that you only had strength if you chose it. Logan was this little tough white boy living in a small place in a small town, and he was wise beyond his years.

First of all, the kid was a friggin genius, so, naturally, he sucked up information like it was his job; he took everything in, memorized everything. His brain was a working dictionary, encyclopedia, calculator, and science extraordinaire. Second of all, he'd seen things that most people don't. Kendall had never met anyone who had seen their dad murder their siblings, and saved the life of his sibling and himself, nor would he ever again meet someone like that.

The closest person he met in that similar situation was Carlos, and despite them being brothers and seeing the same thing, they had two completely different stories.

Kendall learned a lot of things about Logan the first sleep over that the pale boy joined he and James on. And even though Carlos was sleeping, he learned a lot about him, too, and suddenly all the stories he'd heard about the local Lucas family were starting to make sense.

Antonia, aka Nettie, was Logan's mother. _She_ was the one who left the small town that had so many stuck. She was the one who changed her life, trying to make something bigger out of it, going to New York, hoping to be on Broadway, but instead, discovering she was pregnant. Kendall knew it was Logan; but he couldn't help but wonder if Logan knew he was the reason his mother couldn't get on Broadway. She came back, and Logan and Carlos were home schooled for a year because they were traumatized.

Kendall knew that he'd just accepted two newcomers into his 'group'…or, 'duo' rather, making them a group. Kendall liked it; he'd been ready to take on the responsibility of leading two new friends, and he knew that both of the boys needed someone to look up to. And he was more than willing to give them that. They were, in a sense, helping him more than he was going to help them.

Kendall spent years with the two of them. He knew every quirk, every detail, every misconception going on about his boys. Once Kendall had your back, you knew you were taken care of. Logan didn't fall weak when it came to trying to be brave. For a long time he didn't want to be lead by Kendall, despite subconsciously doing it.

Kendall would say jump, and Logan would say, "No." then immediately ask, "how high?". Kendall would say, "come on, just throw the golf ball." Logan would say, "No." then immediately throw the golf ball. Kendall would say, "do a back flip." Logan would say, "No." then immediately do a back flip. Kendall would say, "Logan, just help us soak the girls' field hockey team." Logan would say, "No." then immediately say, "I gotta get new friends," before helping soak the girls.

Logan, inadvertently, was already similar to Kendall in so many ways. Kendall was just more confident and strong about it, and Logan was more laid back, and shy, and weak about his need for adventure. The boy was a daredevil, he sought thrill, as did Kendall. But the difference was, Kendall _did_ something about it. It was that natural leader instinct of his. Logan's most natural instinct was, "We're gonna get in trouble." Kendall pushed him to do the things he'd wanted to do all along.

James, of course, enjoyed the trouble Kendall caused. If it wasn't annoying the teacher, putting bugs in the girl's locker rooms, letting the biology frogs run wild, or that minor explosion in the chemistry lab in ninth grade when they were fourteen, it was something hockey related.

Kendall had but one dream; hockey. He lived, breathed, and slept hockey. It was his passion, his fire, his baby. James wanted to be famous, but, in the meantime, he allowed himself to enjoy the sport.. It did, after all, help him get stronger and look better. Logan loved it, too; he was able to relieve a lot of built up tension, and it had been a great way for Carlos to release energy. Kendall's personal dream benefited all of his friends and the four worked wonderfully together as a team.

Logan and Carlos were both _so fast_. Kendall was impressed by the band of brothers, however he couldn't help but notice Logan was a little faster. On the ice, your advantage is when you're small. You weigh less, therefore you glide much more easier, ergo go faster. Logan was the fastest and he was so logical that he planned his move out in his head right before he did it. Years of studying made him good; Kendall was naturally good.

The next four years flew by the boys; they went from middle school and middle school trouble, to high school and high school trouble, drama, and bullshit, despite Carlos, you know, being a few years behind. He always caught up, though. Kendall saw the other scars, over those years, slowly but surely. He'd noticed the K and C on his arms.

"They're all from that night?" Kendall had asked on more than one occasion.

"Every one," Logan responded, again, on more than one occasion. "Well, besides this one that I got from a cigarette, and this one I got from the siding on a car that I walked into."

Another thing Kendall learned about the dynamic duo of brothers was that they were both so accident prone. It was scary to be around them. If it wasn't Logan, it was Carlos. If it wasn't Carlos, it was Logan. The two knew how to keep the others on their toes; James was basically second in command when it came to the group and they were both nervous.

Hockey was dangerous, especially on ice, when you're on blades. Logan may have gotten thirteen scars from that horrific night, but he must have gotten thirteen more every time he played hockey. But that didn't stop him from loving it.

Carlos wore his helmet all the time. It was instinctive for him; Kendall couldn't count how many times he'd ran into a wall, fallen off his bike, fallen down or up some stairs, or had something fall on his head. James didn't help, either, by constantly wresting with Carlos, although, Kendall couldn't blame him. Who didn't love a good wrestle?

Carlos's first day of high school was much, much more peachier than he thought it was going to be. He had lunch with Kendall, James and Logan every day, and he had a class with Kendall and James every other day. James was also in his English class for the first half of the semester, having failed it twice. He wasn't good with words, despite Logan trying to help. Those vocab quizzes killed the tall tan pretty boy, _every time_. The others were juniors, and he hadn't been expecting any classes with any of them, but he did have a few.

There was one day the boys were at lunch, just joking and having a good time when one of the seniors asked Logan where he got his scar from. It was a question Logan heard a lot, and during the past four years, Kendall heard it a lot, too. Since they went to school together, played hockey together, and spent between 16 through 24 hours a day with each other, Kendall heard it almost every time Logan did. Carlos didn't ever seem phased by it. It was just something he was used to. It seemed to irk James, but not to the extent where it bothered Kendall. He didn't understand _why_ other people needed to know. He understood why you don't just ask someone that question; it's fucking _rude_ and disrespectful. He hated seeing people disrespect Logan, or any of his boys.

So, the question was asked, "How'd you get that scar?"

Kendall was naturally immediately infuriated by the question, but Logan played it off slyly. "It's a war injury."

"…what war?"

Logan replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "…Vietnam."

The dumb airhead had nodded, a bit warily, but still, nodded.

The kid next to him piped, "But…wasn't that like, in the 20's?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Try 50's through 70's."

"Still, you weren't alive."

"It's still a battle wound."

"So, how'd you get it?"

"Shut up," Kendall said, "Does it matter how he got it? Really? If he wanted you to know, then you'd know already."

Kendall couldn't help but feel honored that hew did know; after saying that, he was glad he knew Logan and glad that Logan trusted him enough to tell him. After saying that out loud, Kendall was glad that Logan had wanted him to know. He didn't stop to ever think that Logan told him on instinct; out of panic. He didn't stop to think that Logan was weak ,and he did things just because he felt like he had to.

But now he had Kendall to look up to; he didn't have to just do things to get him out of situations. He panicked under pressure, but Kendall had taken that off his shoulders. Kendall had dubbed himself primary emotional caregiver to his friends. They were his _best_ friends, and he'd happily bend over backwards for them. He'd happily make sure they were protected. Logan didn't have to do it anymore. That was the point of the pressure being raised.

_Logan didn't have to do it anymore._

But, in the same sense, that made him weak. Because Logan depended on protecting Carlos; that was the only thing he did confidently. Yet, he didn't hesitate to step back when he met Kendall.

Logan couldn't help but grin as he excused himself and Kendall from the table, pulling his tall friend aside, settling in a quiet spot in the hallway. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, eyes sparkling up at the tall blond. "You were about to punch that kid in the head."

"It just pisses me off when people talk to you."

Logan laughed. "Oh? So I should have no other social life besides you?"

"No, I meant, it makes me mad when they ask you about it."

"Why, though?"

"Doesn't it make you mad?"

Logan shrugged. "Not really. People ask all the time, it's no big deal. I just talk my way out of it."

"But it's none of their business!"

"People are naturally curious about physical deformities -"

"But they're _so rude_!"

"They're just blunt."

"Why are you defending them?"

"Because you're getting worked up over something so mediocre."

"Nobody was even talking about it. Why should you just have to change the subject like that? Why should you have to be reminded about it by nosy people and their questions? I wish I could just shut them the fuck up."

Logan smiled at his friends' compassion and kindness. If more people were like Kendall, even at sixteen, the world would be _such_ a better place. Logan casually shrugged a shoulder. "I'm reminded every day, Kendall. I see it every day. It's not something that just goes away. It's not something you can just forget about. I see it _every day_, the image of my sisters dead bodies, my brother crying just before being killed. People asking, it's nothing. I'm always thinking about it. Always."

Despite the change in his tone, Logan still smiled. This was his strongest subject; the thing he knew the most about. He was always brave when it came to this topic. This was, after all, _his_ topic.

"…it's not fair."

Logan laughed. "You're pathetic."

"I hate unfairness."

Logan nodded, giving him that one. Kendall _did_ hate unfairness. That's what he'd always stood up for. "Either way, there's nothing you can do to stop this. Alright? You just _can't."_

Kendall rolled his eyes, hating this, but knowing the truth. "Doesn't mean I can't tell them to shut the fuck up."

Logan couldn't resist; he hugged his tall friend, and Kendall willingly hugged back, accepting it, because it was rare. Kendall was just to sweet for Logan to not want to hug him. "Yeah," said Logan into the crook of his neck. "You can tell them to shut the fuck up."

* * *

><p>Note: Yeah, a cute little ending there. They're bad. haha. You'll see. (; So. Thanks for reading. I hope you all had a better day than me. thanks for reading!(:<p> 


	6. Emotions

Thought: So, horrible news. I have no idea where this story is going. Shocker. Actually, it's quite pointless at this point, and that makes me nervous. But, I'm determined. So. Yeah. Damn. Okay.

* * *

><p>Logan's eyes opened suddenly, and light pouring through the windows made him close them again. He blinked away the sensitivity and gained the stamina to sustain the light. He looked around, remembering that he'd slept at Kendall's. In fact, he was in Kendall's bed, and Kendall was sleeping next to him.<p>

Carlos and James were on the floor; it happened like this _every_ sleepover, which happened _every_ Friday. Logan would always insist on Carlos sleeping in the bed, which made Kendall insist on James _and_ Carlos sleeping in the bed. They all always ended up on the floor, but, somewhere between twelve and one a.m., Kendall would decide that it's stupid to sleep on the floor when there's an empty bed _right there_, and then, between two and four a.m., he would hear Logan whimper, and he would pick him up, bring him in the bed with him, and coddle him till he'd calmed down.

It was natural for Kendall to be parental with his friends. It all had to do with his never-ending need to protect people. Everybody has something missing in their lives, whether it's physically or emotionally. It doesn't matter which, they ultimately effect each other. Someone who is emotionally missing something has a tendency to attempt to fill the void by physical harm. Someone who is physically missing something has a tendency to be emotionally destroyed, till they explode with hatred and confusion. Either way, you end up being miserable. Either way, you're stuck within your own emotional assembly with no one to turn to because nobody ever truly understands what _you_ go through.

It's tough, and Kendall knew that. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he felt when his dad joined the army. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he felt when his dad came back. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he felt when his dad chose to leave the family. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he felt when he got the news that the man was dead. That was his story.

He couldn't help but compare it to his friends' stories, though. Take James, for example. His dad was gone, too, that was something they had in common. James's dad wasn't dead though, he was just out and about, working during the day and sleeping with every woman he'd ever met at night. He didn't want to grow up, not even for James. Kendall's father at least tried. And then there was the handsome one's mother, who was now completely bitter since the divorce. She was also dangerously stupid and James couldn't stand to even be around her. He couldn't blame him, though. He wouldn't want to be around a stupid bitch either.

Carlos's story, Kendall thought, was worse than his, too. Carlos was only seven when his father murdered his siblings, and it was _his_ father. He was the only remaining descendant of the murderer, and he was named Carlos Robert Garcia. People knew and Carlos was embarrassed by it. His mother was a good mother, but she worked a shift where she shouldn't have. It just happened to be a job, and she had to take what she can get. But she didn't spend a lot of time with him; all Carlos had was Logan.

Logan, who tried to be strong but clearly wasn't. He and his younger brother were the same size; at one point, Logan gained an inch or so on him, but that didn't mean Carlos wasn't more muscular, even being two years younger. Logan was also quite quiet. He kept almost everything bottled inside, and let his brain psychoanalyze everything. His scar made him so unconfident that it upset Kendall. He was so insecure, and he wished Logan would see that life shouldn't be spent being afraid of what other people think about you.

Logan watched Kendall sleep for a few moments before turning and facing the opposite direction. Every Saturday morning was the same; he'd wake up before anyone else due to something stupid and subconscious, in Kendall's bed after falling asleep on the floor. He looked to the floor, noting Carlos being halfway under the bed, and James being sideways with his feet next to Carlos's face.

He chuckled softly to himself, hoping to fall back asleep, but knowing it'd be virtually impossible. If you looked in his eyes' you'd see your reflection. But whenever he closed them, all he saw was the mangled remains of the babies. Logan sighed and Kendall turned; Logan hoped he hadn't woken him. "mmmhrmmg. Go back to sleep, okay? It's Saturday."

When it was Saturday, it didn't matter what time it was. Kendall always wanted to go back to sleep. But, this time, Logan didn't want to go to sleep. He didn't want to just lay there, because it would haunt his mind. He needed Kendall to get his mind off of this, and while he knew the tall blonde was more than capable of doing this, he couldn't help but be consumed by guilt. He didn't want to disturb his best friend. He didn't want to bother him, or be the nuisance he knew he was. But he was shaking, and he hated it.

He slowly but surely made his way closer to Kendall, doing it so subtly that the blonde didn't even notice till he felt the shaking boy beneath him. "Logie, are you okay?"

Logan didn't say anything, and that didn't surprise Kendall. He sighed and turned, wrapping his arms around Logan who was still not facing him. "Just relax, okay? I'm right here, I've got you…" sleep was still evident in his voice, but his words still affected Logan, doing their job as intended, and he fell into Kendall's grasp.

He stopped trembling, but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't think about the babies, either. He just thought about how nice it was to wake up to Kendall, and not alone. He was sick of being alone, but he still had a hard time letting anyone in, or emotions out. Because he knew it wouldn't change anything. The babies would still be dead, Roberto Garcia would still be a murder, he'd still think about it every day, and he'd still be weakened by it.

He mentally smacked himself for being self redundant on the same topic, but it wasn't something that could easily become un-repetitive. But, with focusing on what was going on in the _now_ rather than what happened back then. Carlos's body half visible, James's feet in the Latino's face. Kendall's arms wrapped around him.

Eventually, Kendall got up. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to, "piss so bad my bladder might explode." He ended up stepping on Carlos, who woke up and punched him, which woke up James. Logan sat in the bed and stared at the two on the floor.

Carlos smiled wildly at his brother, "Morning, Logie!"

Logan smiled softly at him, "Morning buddy. Sleep well?"

"Mhmm!" he said, cracking his back by pushing his shoulders together. "How 'bout you?"

"Of course I did."

"What did you dream?"

"…I dreamt that our hockey team won the finals," Logan lied with a smile.

"Really? Me too!" Carlos said. "What'd you dream about James?"

"I dreamt that Mr. Cuda died and left me his company."

The other two stared at him oddly before he shrugged and Kendall walked in. James then asked _him_ what his dream was about.

The blonde's eyes shifted from Logan, to James, to Logan, to Carlos, then back to James before settling on the tan one and saying, "I don't remember. It took me 2 minutes to pee."

The boys proceeded to the kitchen where Mrs. Knight asked them what their plans were for the day, and he proceeded to become nervous when Kendall told her that their was no plan. They were just improvising.

Kendall and Carlos got their bikes and James and Logan hopped on their skateboards, and the four friends made their way to the hockey rink, all their gear heavy on their backs. The boys loved each other, but hockey definitely kept them together. It was the one thing they ALL loved and all appreciated. They were so different, and each boy felt like it was the thing that kept them tied together.

Because it was. And it made them all stronger.

Physically and emotionally.

…but either way, they _always _effect each other.

They practiced for a few hours, preparing themselves for their next game. It was nicer to play with their _entire_ team, but the boys liked to play for fun, too, so while they weren't with the team (which, they had practice the following morning), they liked to play during their own time. It was constructive and destructive at the same time, something each of them needed in their life.

And, it kept them out of trouble, being that solid block that gave the boys something to do other than cause chaos, which was something Kendall had a knack for, make mayhem, which was something that followed James, break expensive things, which was something Carlos couldn't help but do, and formulate drama, which was a nasty tendency of Logan's. Hockey was so good for these boys it was borderline disgusting. What would they _do_ if they hadn't found hockey? God help everyone in Minnesota.

They spent their weekend full of hockey, which wasn't surprising. That was Kendall's idea of improvisation, play hockey till your legs burn, then go home and watch it, scrutinizing Koivu, Havlat, Backstrom and Lattendresse's every moves.

Monday morning was brutal on Kendall who was tired after sleeping for a mere three hours in his bedroom alone. Recovering from weekends was always torturous on the normally energized teen, but Mondays were murderous. Ahem. He showered aimlessly until Katie started slamming on the door, telling him it was her turn already.

James was already at the school when Kendall arrived, which wasn't surprising. He spent as little time at home as possible, and although he didn't exactly enjoy school, it wasn't so bad when class wasn't in session. He liked being away from home, and he liked being with other people. He liked looking good _for_ other people. That was just James.

Carlos was finally in high school, so time that they had in between classes and during lunch was more enjoyable to him; it wasn't exactly a secret how much James enjoyed spending time with his younger pal. The two had similar interests, and they were both really good for each other in the ways in which James gave Carlos confidence, and Carlos gave James hunger and drive to do literally anything. Carlos was such an upbeat person, so positive and caring, and friendly, and he would do whatever it would take to be a _great_ person. He liked going to bed at night happy, and carefree, and he liked knowing that, at the end of the day he was nice to everybody, and he at least tried.

Because just trying always counts.

Logan looked tired, but it wasn't anything new. He always looked tired, Kendall thought, even since the day they met. He knew that very first sleep over that Logan didn't sleep well; he was tortured by that night. He saw it differently that Carlos did. Carlos was an optimist; he thought, _I still have my mom and Logan _where as Logan couldn't help but think, _holy shit, they're really gone._

Death was a scary thing for him, and Carlos took it as it was. Carlos understood that things change and that shit happens, and you have to embrace life, take it on as is, and move on. _move on._ Logan couldn't do that. He just couldn't forget about it and move on. He couldn't see that there was so much more to life than living in the past, thinking about what you can't change and what you wish you could bring back. You can't change the past, and you can't bring it back. You can't live your life making wishes, because the only thing we have that's even relatively close to magic is love.

The first bell rang and the boys scurried to their classes; Logan, AP Calc, James and Carlos, Art, and Kendall, Algebra II. They had lunch together every day, which was during block three. Each boy would immediately go to their usual spot at their usual table; the end left at the hockey table. Most of the team sat together, but there were a few that strayed away now and again. They'd wait for each other and go up to the lunch line together, to get food that wasn't always bad.

That day, however, three boys stood there waiting for the forth. Carlos shook his head, saying, "Something's not right."

Kendall felt it, too, and he looked at James wondering where the hell Logan could possibly be. Everybody else was already eating. They went into the hall, and split up, going to the only places Logan could be. James took the library, Carlos went for the class he was coming from, and Kendall went for the bathroom. That's where they leader saw Wayne Dreher, exiting the B hall bathroom with two cronies and a smirk on his face and flexing fists. Wayne beelined for the cafeteria. Kendall knew.

It wasn't any secret that the football team had this resentment towards the hockey team. The boys' school wasn't like most schools; typically, football is the star sport of a school. Not theirs. It was hockey. The football team envied the attention the hockey team received and their best players had the worst sportsmanship. Kendall, as the captain and natural leader, taught his team to be kind with the football players. You're better than that, he advised, they're not worth your time.

Wayne Dreher was the football team's captain, and he led his whole crew to believe that hockey sucks and the players should be beaten up so they can't play and football can take it's number one place. However, despite how hard they tried, the football team had no match for the hockey team. Nobody had a chance, not when Kendall Knight was the teacher.

Kendall ran into the bathroom, seeing Logan bleeding, conscious, and standing. Wayne had grabbed him from the back of the head and slammed it into the mirror, which was now cracked. Kendall didn't know how to react, at first, but his emotions over took him. He ran.

He knew exactly where Wayne sat at lunch, he marched right up to his table, taking a glass soda bottle off of a table he passed by, smashing it. It's' liquidy contents spilled to the floor and onto Kendall, but he marched right through it. When it came to his buds, when it came to your team, Kendall told them, you stick up for them no matter what. You don't hesitate. "We're bros," he'd told them, "we have each others backs, through _everything." _

He grabbed Wayne and slammed him hard onto the table, holding the broken bottle to his neck. "Touch him again, I'll kill you!" he screamed, not caring who heard, or who saw. "I'll _skin you alive_!" You don't mess with his team and get away with it. You don't mess with Logan and get away with it. Not on his watch.

Teachers raced up to him and pried him off of Wayne; Kendall struggled to break free, but did. "Get off me," he said, "I'm going, I'm going."

"Logan's in the B hall bathroom, bleeding," he stated calmly, walking with the teachers to the principal's office. He wanted to keep his cool, because he didn't want them to manhandle him again. He hated that. "You might want to send the nurse to get him. He's bleeding pretty badly. I didn't touch Wayne, or anything."

"I don't know what you were thinking, Kendall!" the teacher told him. "You're an idiot! You can't just go around threatening other students! You tell a teacher!"

"Like that'll do anything. Wayne's been messing-"

"I don't want to hear it. Save it for Mr. Rocque."

Kendall sighed as he sat across from the big, the bad, the mean, Mr. Rocque. He looked at him, the leader, the pack, the dog, the wolf. "What did you do now?" he questioned.

"I threatened to kill Wayne Dreher for beating up Logan," Kendall said, wincing in anticipation.

"…is that all?"

"I held a broken soda bottle to his neck." Kendall learned to be very blunt and honest with people from Logan. It hurt worse to beat around the bush. Then, you had more time to think about it.

"Where's Logan?"

"B Hall bathroom last I knew. Wayne's still in the lunchroom. Or maybe he went home cause he shit his pants, I don't know."

"Don't curse or make accusations, Knight," instructed the school's boss. The corpulent man stood and instructed him to do the same. He didn't yell, he didn't scream. He walked side by side, man with man, with Kendall to the B hall bathroom, seeing it being vacant. The principal studied the shattered glass from the mirror and looked at Kendall. "Dreher do this?" he questioned.

"With Logan's head, yeah. So I got mad and chased him down to the-"

"Did you _see_ him do it?"

Kendall shook his head. "I saw him and his goonies coming out of the bathroom. When I went in, Logan was the only one in there. He didn't do it to himself."

The principal stayed oddly calm and led Kendall towards the nurses office. They walked in an awkward silence and Kendall no longer knew what the consequences would be. This was unusual for this man, who's anger usually got the best of him. Like Kendall.

"Is it gonna scar, too?" Kendall heard Carlos's concerned, soft, questioning voice. The Latino sounded so young helpless. Kendall didn't like it.

"It probably will," the nurse said calmly, in a reassuring voice. "But it will be so hard to see. You won't even be _able_ to see it, unless you're looking for it."

"Kendall!" James shouted from the other end of the hallway, running up to him, not caring if Rocque was right there. "_What_ did you do!"

Carlos and Logan both turned their heads to the door, seeing the back of Kendall's head, and James's tan, flailing arms.

"Nothing! I mean I - defended Logan!"

James looked passed Kendall into the nurse's office, seeing his friend with a bandage wrapped around his head. Kendall breathed out heavily, looking pleadingly at his best friend to side with him.

"…who?" he asked. "WHO!"

"Calm do-"

"JUST TELL ME WHO DID THIS!" he shouted.

"JAMES!" Gustavo shouted, pulling him aside and away from the nurse's office, leaving Kendall stunned in his place before turning and entering, sitting next to Logan and putting his arm around him.

"You okay?" he asked.

Logan nodded softly, and fell into Kendall's arms, glad he didn't have to be the strength anymore. Kendall could do it. Kendall could always do it.

When Mr. Rocque couldn't get through to James he had a teacher's aide escort him to the guidance councilor and went into the nurse's office with the remaining dogs, telling them that he would take care of everything.

Let it be known that neither boy got demoted from their team, nor did they get suspended. However, Kendall learned his lesson and never would he ever threaten Wayne Dreher.

Unless he deserved it.

After all, the kid was pretty weak compared to Kendall, even if he could beat up Logan.

* * *

><p>Note: I think we got somewhere...i dunno. the ending was dreadful, don't lie. thanks for reading! (:<p> 


	7. Subtly Broken

Thought: If you read my story, Doll, you're aware that that is my problem story. **This, somehow, is slowly but surely becoming my problem story.**

I forgot to mention this in my Juicy update, if you read that, I mean, but when I first started Weak, I had already thought of starting Juicy. I considered them my 'new' stories, and I wanted _one of them to be slash_. I didn't know which _one_, but only one.

And I've changed my mind about which one. With the way things have progressed, **this is no longer slash at all**, and Juicy is. I'm sorry if this changes anyone's mind about reading this story, but I just don't think I can make this into a slash with how things turned out. They're like brothers way too much, I think. Again, I'm sorry if this changes anything and I'm sorry if you're disappointed.

* * *

><p>Logan didn't mind the fact that his face was smashed into a mirror. He didn't mind the fact that he'd have a small scar on his forehead to go with the ones he already had. It was safe to say he was more mad about the fact that he was too weak to defend himself than he was about the battle wound.<p>

Cuts turn to scars, and apparently, with Neosporin at the proper time, can fade. But your pride is forever. Your dignity is forever. And what you think about yourself, that's forever.

And Logan had lost what little respect he'd had for himself because he couldn't stick up for himself.

He, unfortunately, was kind of mad at his friends. He knew they meant well, really. He knew they were protective, and didn't want him to get hurt. He knew how caring they were, and he knew they'd react the way they did. It was no surprise. Yet it still irked him that they knew he was too weak to fight his own battles.

Carlos, however, knew about his brother's pride. He knew that Logan hated being weak, but he also believed that Logan wasn't _choosing_ to be strong. It was pissing him off, actually, to see his brother struggle with something like this. Logan had always remained strong in front of Carlos for the purpose of being strong in front of Carlos. But the pale boy jumped at the opportunity of letting himself become consumed by weakness. Carlos wasn't stupid, he knew.

Whenever Kendall was around, he allowed it. Whenever James was near, he allowed it. Because he had protection, something he spent most of his life believing he had, only to have that ripped away the minute the protector killed the babies.

What kind of protector kills babies?

Kendall and James, Logan trusted them. He trusted them the first day he met them and he'd struggled with trust issues. He didn't know that _that_ hurt Carlos more than not being protected. Carlos could hold his own but that didn't stop him from being Logan's little brother.

Logan studied his new scar intently in the mirror. He scrutinized it's details, where it was more deep, where it was more thin. How it will look once it's completely healed and as faded as it will ever be. It wouldn't be _so_ bad, he thought. He's had worse.

He jumped when he heard a knock on the door, and turned to see his fourteen year old brother standing there. "Whatcha doing?" he asked innocently.

"There's only so many things you can do in a bathroom, Carlos."

"Does that mean you were masturbating? Because I can go get the -"

"No, I wasn't masturbating!" Logan shot. "I was just looking…at… you know… myself, ahem."

"Oh!" Carlos said. "I do that, too, Logan." He went over to the mirror, got real close, and started picking at a small skin blemish on the side of face. "I'm hot, right?" Carlos asked, still looking at himself. When he got no reply, he turned and looked desperately at his brother. "Right?"

Logan laughed. "Whatever you say, man."

"Logan! It's not funny. I mean-"

"Did someone say something to you?" Logan asked, assuming someone had called his brother ugly. He figured it was safe to think that, giving the circumstance.

"No," Carlos said with a shrug, clearly completely confused and oblivious to what Logan was thinking. "I'm just saying. Like, I'm hot right?"

Logan rolled his eyes, annoyed, and left the bathroom, heading downstairs to the kitchen. Carlos was quick to follow, and he jumped up on the counter. "Will you make me noodles?"

"You can't make them yourself?"

"PLEASE!"

"Sh, mom's sleeping."

So, the latino whispered, "_Please make me noodles Logie!"_

Logan sighed but pulled out a small pan and a package of noodles and started preparing lunch for his brother, despite the younger being perfectly capable of doing that on his own. "We've got practice today with the guys," Logan reminded. "After that, our asses are getting to the library, because your grade in history is disgusting."

Carlos sighed. "I just _can't_ remember it all!"

"You don't have to. You just have to remember enough to maintain a B. So cut this D minus shit out, alright? I'm gonna help you. We'll find your niche; that mnemonic device."

"Uhhh, nooma what now?"

"The trick that'll help you get it."

"Ohh, right, yeah. Numeric device."

The day went as planned; Carlos and Logan met up with Kendall and James at the hockey rink, the four of them and four other guys from their team practicing for their upcoming game. It was a rough match of four on four; James captain of one team, Kendall the other. From the beginning, it was going to be a tough game.

James had Carlos, which meant he had the best goalie; how the hell were they going to get the puck past him? Kendall had Logan, which meant he had the speed; how the hell were they going to get a puck from him when he got it? James also didn't know if his game plan could beat Kendall's. It's no secret that the leader was full of surprises.

It was a tough match, but once Callaghan knocked Kendall down, it was pretty much downhill from there for that team. Logan's skate was loose, Kendall's knee was hurting, and their goalie sucked. There was really no way for them to win at this point, they were a point behind to a game up to seven. James's team had one more point till victory.

Kendall was disgusted by his loss. He was _so_ competitive, losing always ticked him off. So, he immediately opted out of the library (despite it sounding just riveting), and went home, to his basement, to punch the punching bag for a few hours. James, too opted out of going to the library, just because, "I don't _want_ to," and the brothers were left to go alone. But, they kind of saw it coming.

Logan helped Carlos study, and found the mnemonic device. "Carnegie is like the captain, right? And Rockefeller is the captain of his rival team. They were competitors working towards the same philanthropic goal. They both wanted to be the best in the oil industry. Got it?"

Carlos had become really excited about understanding the majority of that. The one thing that he didn't quite grasp was what hell 'philanthropic' meant, but the rest seemed so stupidly easy that he wanted to slap himself for not getting it sooner.

Things were going quite smoothly, as they won their game and Carlos finally got his grade up to the B his brother expected of him. After their win, the entire team went to the pizza parlor to, obviously, eat pizza. The coach's treat, of course. It was Friday, so after the game and pizza, Logan, Carlos, James and Kendall all headed to Kendall's for the inevitable sleep over. They didn't get home till about eleven or so, with the game having started at seven, and not ending till a little after nine.

Mrs. Knight and Katie had watched the game, but they didn't go to the pizza place with the team. Katie's friend was sleeping over, which she usually did since Kendall and the guys didn't let her hang out with them often, and she got bored, too. Mrs. Knight, with all these friggin kids, did not have time for her friends on the weekends.

James was sniffling, and Mrs. Knight was not amused by this. "You're making him spend too much time on the ice," she said, in her pink bathrobe and fuzzy black slippers, one hand on James's forehead, the other hand pointing at her son.

Kendall shrugged. "He's fine. You're fine, right James?"

James nodded, swatting Mrs. Knight away. "I'm fine," he said.

"You're sniffling!" she accused.

"Yeah, yeah, the sniffles," James said, shrugging it off, urging the woman to leave. The boys hung around in the living room, draped over furniture. Kendall in his chair, Logan and James on opposite sides of the couch, and Carlos took his usual spot on the coffee table while they all watched Youngblood and ate snacks.

The next morning, Logan decided he and Carlos were going to leave a little earlier than usual, in hopes to get some mom time in before she had to work, and they were lucky enough to. Nettie smiled at her boys as they entered the apartment. Their eyes were tired, and so were hers, but she we happy to see them, and they were happy to see her.

"Good morning," she greeted them. "How was sleep over?"

"Great," Carlos said, "It always, is, you know. But we won the game last night! Yeah! The other team literally only scored one goal and I blocked, like, eight. Was it eight, Loges?"

"It was four, buddy," Logan said.

"Close enough. And we went to pizza, and Mama Knight went to bed early and I had a lot of cookies and ice-cream, even though Logan told me not to, I had like, half the cookies, but they were _so_ good, I couldn't stop eating them! I just couldn't. But it's okay because I didn't throw up, but James has the sniffles."

His mother smiled at him, expecting the mouthful of words and quick run on sentences from her now youngest. "I'm _so_ proud of you," she praised, then looked at Logan. "I'm proud of you."

Logan wasn't as amused as Carlos was by this statement, but he sucked it up nonetheless. It was rare for them to see their mother for more than an hour in a day, so they liked to hear her praise them. They liked to hear her tell them she loves them, because they were never sure which time would be the last time.

"Mom?" Logan asked, mustering up all the courage he had in him.

"Hmm?"

Logan hesitated a moment, but then, decided to just say it, and quickly. "Mom, I want to meet my real father."

Carlos looked at Logan, his eyes wide. "…I want to see my real dad again."

Logan looked at his brother, almost shocked, but, instead of opposing, he said, "…me too."

And Antonia thought her heart exploded.

* * *

><p>Note: That was reaaaaaaaaaallly bad. Like, that was honestly the worst chapter ever. and I'm terribly sorry. My excuse is that I miss CheekyBrunette so much that I just suck way worse than what I usually do. I want her back now. This isn't going to be much longer, just because I can no longer stand it. It's weird because I used to love it. Now I love Juicy, and I hate this, almost as much as I hate Doll, which is A LOT.<p>

And, if you haven't already, go buy Demi Lovato's new single, Skyscraper off of iTunes. She's the love of my life, no joke, and the song is incredible.

So, thanks for reading. (:


End file.
